


Possession is Nine Tenths

by Bubblebirdie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/F, Graphic Description of Corpses, Love/Hate, Sharing a Bed, Vampire! Daisy, Witch! Jemma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubblebirdie/pseuds/Bubblebirdie
Summary: Daisy's an eons old vampire who's just waiting around to die. Jemma's a lonely part fae- woodland witch. They don't really get along, but they've got centuries to make it work.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	Possession is Nine Tenths

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I've been having Writer's Block for quite a bit, and I'm going crazy. I don't know when I will get around to updating Take What I Can Get or I Know You Can Feel the Magic. I know it's been over a month, but I promise I will finish them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.

Limbs were rotting on the floor, ripped from their bodies. The walls were painted red with the stench of rotting flesh. Knives had been tossed carelessly to the side, and broken dishes littered the room. In the furthermost corner though, a mess of hair and olive skin smeared with blood lay, half-covered by a ratty blanket, staring carelessly at the ceiling. The holes in the wood let in the rain, droplets running down her face and thinning the pools of crimson around her, but they also gave her a view of the stars. She could name them all- had named some of them; they had followed her through her miserable life that was far longer than anyone deserved. Eventually, fire burnt out. Even immortal beasts could be killed. She was waiting.

“Hello?” the planks creaked as the door was pushed open. She twitched a moment- fighting the instinct to run. She was done trying to survive. A thin frame stood in the doorway, taking in the scene. A hand came up to cover rosy lips in horror. Warm cinnamon eyes zeroed in on the creature who was having trouble not cackling at the situation.

“Aren’t you going to run?” she didn’t need to turn over to know the look on the woman’s face. She’d seen it far too many times- knew it all too well.

“Are you alright?” the woman took another step, avoiding the blood, smartly. It was a few moments of heavy breath and groaning timber before she was standing over her. The expression painted on her features was one of curiosity, and even that was unwelcome as it tended to lead to what was essentially torture all in the name of science. The woman clearly hadn’t gotten the hint by the dead bodies littered around. Her fangs had slid back due to her current state of being satiated and full; however, she willed them out; flashing her unnaturally long canines. The woman just put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot in thought.

“Oh, don’t give me that look- you’ve obviously eaten already, and nobody likes killing,”

“I’m sorry what?” she propped her head up on one shoulder.

“Huh,” the woman tilted her head, “it’s not every day you surprise a vampire now is it,” She extended a hand. “Dr. Jemma Simmons, you could say I’m a witch. My mum was a changeling,” She looked at the hand, then at the woman, then, back at the hand. Well then.

“How old are you?” her voice was scratchy, and it almost hurt to speak.

“It’s rude to ask a woman her age. This place looks dreadful,” Jemma squinted at the rain soaking her hair. “I highly doubt it’s comfortable- even for a vampire. You’ll stay with me- after a bath or something,” she decided.

“You have a wonderful grasp of etiquette,”

“Your name?”

“I’m not an idiot- you’re part fae. Call me Skye,” Jemma smirked.

“We’ll see,” she proceeded to traipse back across the shack, walking into the rain. She didn’t look back or beckon for her to follow. She didn’t need to. The rain washed away some of the mess; the rest she scrubbed off with lye in a tub Jemma dragged to the front. The witch provided her with jeans and a collared short that she chose not to button to the witch’s frustration. The pale pink fluttered against her skin contrasting nicely with the blush spreading across Jemma’s face as she tried to be hospitable. Her day had gone from waiting to die to annoying a cute part fae- witch.

“You can take the couch,” Jemma said crisply. She was wearing a night-gown from the Elizabethan era and a shawl on top of that.

“No, thanks,” she slinked past the witch to the queen-sized bed, clambering on top of it with her combat boots still on. Jemma had wanted her to take them off upon entry. She had compromised by washing the blood and flesh off. Jemma’s face grew redder and redder; she stood frozen, shaking with fury. The vampire took off her choker laying it on the bedside table, tilting her head at Jemma- question dancing in her eyes. Jemma took a deep breath before stalking over to the bed and climbing in next to her.

“Take off your boots, Skye,” She considered keeping them on just to annoy her; ultimately, she decided against it. Pulling out all the stops on day one wouldn’t be any fun, now would it.

The little house tucked into the back of the woods was charming, carrying the same sweet charisma as it’s owner. Honeysuckles populated the front while the back was a forest of herbs with magical properties and fairy rings; spices hung inside flavoring the wood with a rich, musky scent that blended oddly well with the mint Jemma scented the house with. It was neat; there was a place for everything and everything in its place. It was bright and homely and if a child ever got lost in the wood, they wouldn’t hesitate before knocking on the door for help.

The owner wasn’t someone you would peg as supernatural- rather a nice, young lady who loved nature. She dressed in button-ups and jeans more often than not, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Most of her clothing from other centuries remained in storage barring her nightgowns because they just didn’t make them like the used to.

The vampire who had moved in, on the other hand. She left dead creatures in the garden even if she made sure to leave humans far away from the cottage. She wore corsets nearly every day as well as her precious leather pants that she wouldn’t let Jemma touch despite the stench of death they brought with them. Her chokers were ridiculously 1798, and she wouldn’t wear flannel shirts from the 21st century preferring the pieces she’d picked up through time. In between, Jemma’s organized belongings were her things, and her cat had moved in. Mircalla hated Jemma.

The little shack had long been left behind. When Jemma had invited the existential vampire into her home, she hadn’t meant for her to stay forever. “Skye” had had other ideas though. They didn’t always get along- more often than not, they didn’t; nevertheless, it was nice to have a companion.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Carmilla quite a bit. I was actually going to have Bobbi in there as a werewolf and have it be Skimmorse, but I didn't have it in me. Please comment and kudos. xx


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